


5 times Hermann gets a boner in front of Newt and one time it's the other way round

by PercificRim



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Repression, Sorry Not Sorry, hermann standing up for newt n being badass, it's got it all folks!, lowkey dom hermann, newt in lingerie, quite possibly the most self-indulgent thing ever written, this is. so shameless i'm sorry, touch starved hermann, unbearable levels of sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-21 17:04:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18706618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercificRim/pseuds/PercificRim
Summary: literally what it says. working title: how much tension can i create before they get smothered by it





	5 times Hermann gets a boner in front of Newt and one time it's the other way round

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy it. for reference of what newt looks like in #4, look up charlie at the end of charlie rules the world

 

1.

It had been a long day. It had been a long year, if one was being honest, but a particularly gruelling day full of arguments and demands, and it was for this reason that Dr Hermann Gottlieb found himself at 2am in the lab glaring up at his chalkboards and palming himself through his trousers.

It wasn't that he had a… a _thing_ for maths. Really, it wasn't, despite the taunts that had followed him throughout his life. It wasn't the lab either; Hermann had never even dreamt of engaging in such activities in a professional space before (well–not often). It was just that he was so tense, so frustrated, and he needed this, but he also needed to continue working and he feared if he went back to his room he would succumb to exhaustion and the temptation of his bed.

Leaning back on his chair a little heavier and spreading his legs, Hermann let his eyelids flutter shut and his mouth drop open slightly as he squeezed his bulge gently. Though he was trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, Hermann couldn't help letting out a strangled moan as he ground his hips up just a little, just enough that he could feel the cloth of his briefs drag along his dick, and Hermann's head rolled back and the lab was filled with the sound of his panting breaths punctuated by his soft moans and–  

The shattering of glass.

Hermann's eyes flew open. Newton was standing in the doorway of the lab, a mug of what Hermann assumed had been coffee in pieces on the floor in front of him, the brown liquid pooling by his boots.

For a moment neither of them moved. Newton's mouth was open, and his eyes were trained, mortifyingly, on where Hermann's hand had frozen on his crotch. Then Hermann, shock giving way to extreme embarrassment, came to his senses and hastily retracted his hand and used it instead to haul himself up, using the chair as support. Newton's eyes remained angled downwards and his mouth dropped open a little wider as Hermann’s movements revealed the tented front of his trousers, before flicking up to meet Hermann's gaze as Newton, too, coloured bright red.

Again, a moment passed where neither of them moved, just stared into each other's eyes in equal parts apology and horror. Hermann tried to force himself to speak but found he could not. Newton's eyes flicked once more downwards as if he couldn't help himself, and Hermann flinched, which seemed to break Newton out of his stupor. His hands immediately flew to cover his eyes, and he spun around to stumble out the door, spluttering something along the lines of an apology as he went.

Hermann sank back down into the chair, feeling utterly and thoroughly humiliated. Newton may have spared him the embarrassment now, but he was sure that as soon as they began to argue the next day Newton would not hesitate to throw it in his face, knowing that there would be nothing Hermann could possibly say in rebuttal, knowing that he would have well and truly defeated Hermann. Hermann buried his face in his hands and determinedly did not dwell on the fact that his erection had not wilted during his encounter with Newton.

 

2.

Hermann Gottlieb was well and truly smashed. Newt was getting kind of worried, to be honest, which was annoying because it meant he couldn't be appropriately delighted at having gotten Hermann Gottlieb smashed, _pissed beyond belief_ , Hermann would probably put it.

The night of the failed breach bombing, Newt had hollered and banged at Hermann's door until it opened, taken one look at the blank exhaustion in the mathematician’s eyes, and promptly dragged him out of the Shatterdome and into the nearest bar. Hermann had said nothing the entire time, just let himself be pulled along, and then stared off somewhere that Newt couldn’t see whilst downing shot after shot after shot (after shot after shot after-). Newt had laughed for the first two, five, seven, but when it became obvious that Hermann was neither going to start talking nor stop drinking, he stopped drinking himself and kept a careful eye on Hermann instead.

It hurt to see Hermann like this. Newt felt an uncomfortable twinge in his gut at the thought that all he had succeeded in doing was drowning Hermann in his undoubtedly depressing thoughts, rather than pulling him out of them, as he had hoped to do. Hermann ran his hand through his hair again, sighing, and Newt had to fight to force down his body’s unfortunate interest in Hermann looking so dishevelled and undone. _This is not sexy_ , he thought determinedly, _this is SAD._

Sad it might have been, but Hermann unfortunately was also kind of incredibly sexy, at least in Newt’s eyes, and, apparently, in the eyes of the man who was at that moment heading towards them. There was something predatory in the way he moved, Newt thought, and he shifted closer to Hermann so that their shoulders were pressed together slightly.

The man came to a stop in front of them. He had dirty blond hair and a square jaw, and probably would have been quite attractive if one was into that kind of thing. Which Newt wasn’t. He kind of hoped Hermann wasn’t either. Because, well.

“Hey,” the man smiled at Hermann, and Newt squashed down the jealousy the threatened to rise up, glancing over at Hermann to see if he would respond. Hermann was looking down confusedly, and Newt followed his eyes to see the man resting a hand on Hermann’s thigh. Which, just, no. Absolutely not. Hermann was clearly drunk out of his mind, and that kind of touching was not okay.

“Oi,” he snapped sharply, and the man’s eyes flicked to meet his, smile widening in a manner that was positively shark-like. “Get your hand off him, creep. He’s drunk.”

The man laughed in a way that made Newt’s stomach curdle.

“He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact,” and the man looked pointedly and delightedly at Hermann’s lap, “I think he’s rather enjoying it.”

Newt’s eyes flicked down in time to see the man slide his hand further up Hermann’s thigh, curling it round and _squeezing,_ and barely noticed Hermann’s painfully obvious erection before he saw red, immediately leaning over and landing a solid punch to the man’s cheek.

The man howled and stumbled back, hands flying up to clutch at his face where Newt had hopefully done some pretty serious damage. Stumbling down from the stool, Newt grabbed Hermann who was still looking dazedly between Newt, the man, and his crotch, thrust the man’s cane into his useless hands and, with a pointed glare at everyone who stared, dragged Hermann out of the bar.

Newt manoeuvred them so his arm was firmly around Hermann’s waist and Hermann’s free arm was over his shoulder, doing his best to support them as they staggered back in the direction of the Shatterdome.

“What a jerk that guy was,” he grumbled, “what a fucking creep.”

Hermann gave a soft sigh and broke his silence for the first time that night. “It felt... good, though. Even if he was…” and his face scrunched up with the effort of trying to recall the appropriate words to speak, eventually settling lamely on “...not.”

Newt scowled.

“Even if it felt good that doesn’t make it okay.”

They made it a few more steps before Newt spoke again, gentler this time, and doing his best to inject just the right amount of teasing into his voice.

“Besides, dude, I’m convinced you’re actually some 19th century repressed aristocrat who got transported here somehow. Pretty sure you would get it up for anything that would have been considered scandalous back then.”

“You might be right,” Hermann mumbled, “I’m hard right now.”

Newt froze, just for a second, because _goddamnit Hermann you can’t say stuff like that to me I love you so much_ _it burns_ , but it was enough for Hermann, who had tried to take another step, to stumble and begin to slip out of Newt’s grasp. Newt immediately dropped down to catch him, tightening his grips and hauling them both upwards, which resulted in his hand slipping under Hermann’s rucked up shirt and sliding up his side. Hermann gave a soft _oh_ and pressed himself further into Newt’s side.

Newt was in hell. Normally this would be the kind of thing that would only happen in his dreams, but there was nothing erotic about a plastered and evidently touch-starved Hermann who was so clearly suffering. Newt gritted his teeth and continued forward until what seemed like eons later he deposited Hermann in his bed. Hermann’s eyes were closed within seconds, and Newt eased off his shoes and rolled him into a more comfortable position before pulling the duvet over him and trudging back to his own room, thoughts and feelings a raging storm. The masochistic part of him couldn’t help but wonder how Hermann would react if Newt touched him one day, both of them completely sober. Would he be mad? Would he be flustered? Would he make that sound again? Look at Newt that way again? _I need to get laid_ , he thought, shaking his head clear of the thoughts. _I need to get laid real bad._

 

3.

It was a military base at the end of the fucking world. _Everyone_ was having sex _everywhere_. Hermann had walked in on other people more times than he could count, but it didn’t fluster him anymore; the mutual embarrassment immediately undercut any eroticism one could possibly find in such a scenario.

It was this unfortunate familiarity that meant that when Hermann heard the unmistakable slapping sound of flesh on flesh coming from the communal showers, he just sighed and continued into the open section, sure that whatever activities people might be currently engaging in would at least be taking place behind the flimsy partition of the few cubicles.

He was wrong.

At first all he could see were bright colours. Tattoos, he realised, and then the rest of the picture came swimming into place in front of him. Newton, his lab partner Newton, was being pinned up against the wall, face pressed into the wet tiles as a much larger man who Hermann thought he recognised as one of the new rangers thrust roughly into him from behind. Newton’s eyes opened, and as they focused on Hermann who was still standing frozen in horror he gasped “Hermann!”, only it was timed exactly as the ranger thrust back in and thus came out as more of a moan.

Hermann felt the blood in his system rush simultaneously upwards to colour his face and downwards into his pants where he was starting to grow embarrassingly hard.

“Again, really?” complained the ranger, but Hermann did not register this at all as his brain screamed for him to move but his traitorous body stood stupefied even as Newton’s horrified eyes flicked down to Hermann’s crotch.

Newton pushed away from the wall slightly, eyes apologetic and mouth opening to put an end to the proceedings, when the ranger, who still hadn’t noticed Hermann, gripped Newton’s hair tight and yanked his head back sharply, thrusting upwards with enough force to slam Newton back into the wall. Whatever words had been in Newton’s mouth were lost as he cried out, eyes screwing shut.

Hermann blinked, and then spun around and stumbled out, unable to stop himself from reaching his hand down as soon as he turned the corner.

 

4.

This was becoming utterly ridiculous. The tension in the room was practically palpable. Newt had now seen Hermann’s boner, what, three times now? Like he said, ridiculous. If Newt had had a hard time keeping his thoughts to his side of the lab before, when his feelings towards Hermann were full on wistful longing and blooming affection, now that they were full of desire for something that had been dangled so close in front of him focusing was nigh impossible.

Neither of them had ever mentioned any of the occasions, and Newton knew for certain that Hermann didn’t even remember the second one, but he could just tell in the way Hermann found it harder to meet his eye unless they were full on arguing that he was thinking about it.

Pausing as his hand hovered over the very specific tissue he needed to cut to separate this sac from the flesh, Newt let his eyes travel over to where Hermann was sat at his desk, face set in a scowl as he typed away at his computer.

He was lovely, and Newt adored him, which was exactly the problem. If it was just a case of attraction, then of course Newt would have made a move by now. But Newt _loved_ Hermann in a way that he never thought was capable of loving, and it wouldn’t be fair for anything to happen between them - not on Newt, who would want so much more, and not on Hermann, who would remain ignorant of Newt’s true motives.

Newt watched as Hermann huffed slightly, running his hand lightly through his hair, leaving tiny tufts sticking up here and there. His mouth was opened slightly in concentration and when Newt swallowed it hurt.

Perhaps sensing Newt’s gaze on him, or perhaps just conscious of the uncharacteristic stillness from the other side of the lab, Hermann’s eyes flicked up suddenly to meet his. Newt jerked at the unexpected eye contact, aware that he had been caught blatantly staring, and when his scalpel made its wildly inaccurate incision into the sac itself, Newt was only aware of the secretion that splattered all over his shirt in the way of one watching a scene play out in a film whilst distracted by something else. For a second neither of them moved, Hermann watching him expectantly, as if there was something he expected Newt to do, except Newt was not really present right now. Newt wasn’t sure he existed in his body at all right now; it had ceased to exist to his awareness, and if he was anything, he was the way Hermann sighed irritatedly and pushed himself upwards, or the way Hermann made his way measuredly over to Newt, who was still staring dumbly, and pulled his sleeves over his hands, _not difficult_ , Newt thinks absently, _because his clothes are so clearly too big for him. Why? Is he hiding?_ , gripping Newt’s wrists firmly through the two layers of their shirts and hauling him over to the decontamination shower.

It’s at this point that Newt’s mind decided to boot back up, and he began to splutter as the shower drenched them both.

“Dude, get out of here. It’s fine, I’ll be fine, but you don’t need to be here for this.”

Hermann regarded him critically, and then raised his hands so Newt could see where the substance has stained Hermann’s own sleeves.

Newt opened his mouth and then shut it. He felt bad, because it was his own incompetence that meant Hermann had been dragged into this massively inconvenient ordeal, but he was also hyper aware of the fact that both of them were, according to protocol, required to get naked. Hermann cleared his throat and fixed his gaze pointedly in front of him as he undid the top button of his shirt. Swallowing hard, Newt did the same, determinedly ignoring the shape next to him as he began to shed his clothes. The decontamination shower was small, clearly not built for two, and more than once an elbow would graze against a side, causing them both to inhale sharply. Newt chanced a glance. Hermann’s face was carefully void of any expression, and the man was angled away from him in a way that meant it would have been obvious if Hermann had glanced at him at any point. Still, this was Hermann. Hermann, who was quite possibly the most repressed man Newt had ever known, and so even though he felt like a terrible person, when Newt allowed his eyes to flick downwards, just for a split second, he wasn’t surprised to see that Hermann had an erection again.

The shower spluttered out and the pair of scientists silently reached for the towels that hung just outside, carefully avoiding any sort of contact with each other.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the day.

 

5.

Hermann awoke disorientated. For a moment he floundered, for he was aware that his alarm clock was not ringing, and he felt a kind of heavy restedness in his limbs that he didn’t often experience. Hermann reached out for his watch, fumbling around on his nightstand, and peered at the face through a fuzz of sleep once he had snagged it. It was mid-afternoon. Hermann startled upright, shocked, until he recalled that the entire Shatterdome was supposed to be taking the day off, sagging with relief against the rusty metal headboard. Running his calloused fingers over the tired lines of his face, Hermann wondered, not for the first time, whether he was even physically capable of relaxing. Even if he were to lounge around all day, doing nothing, with so much at stake he knew his mind could never truly let him rest. A day off, he knew, was healthy for the bodies and minds of the rest of the Shatterdome, and undeniably justifiable given that the next attack was not predicted for months ahead. But every day, every moment that Hermann was not at his chalkboards mapping out this war, was time wasted and lives lost.

Hermann shifted until he could swing his legs over the side of the bed, reaching out to unhook his cane from its stand, and then hauled himself upright. Opening his drawer, he paused as his fingers touched the starched fabric of his suit, or Dietrich’s suit, rather, given that it still didn’t fit him. It _was_ his day off, and well, this was Sydney and he was far too warm for his liking, and so Hermann carefully pushed the folded suit arise and pulled out a soft blue cashmere sweater. It had been a gift from his mother on his seventeenth birthday, and so when he pulled it on he found it came up around his midriff, but it had always hung loose on his younger self and he had lost weight since the war and so it fit him quite comfortably, clinging to his chest, but not enough that he felt constricted. Hermann hesitated again, but then decided that given the chances of him running into anyone today was close to nil, he could afford to be casual, and pulled on a pair of light cotton trousers.

Even his steps felt lighter as Hermann made his way slowly to lab. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Newton would not be there today, and maybe Hermann could finally get some good work done in the absence of that stare that was becoming far too seeing for Hermann’s liking. Hermann didn’t like to dwell on the topic of Newton; even a passing thought of the man caused an uncomfortable pooling of heat somewhere low in Hermann’s gut these days, as if the concept of _Newton_ had become synonymous with everything Hermann couldn’t have.

It was this careful suppression of feeling that meant that when Hermann pushed open the door to the lab, he could not initially process what he was seeing.

Newton was there, because _of course_ he was, Hermann was foolish to think he could ever escape him, but it was more than just that. Newton was there, and he was wearing some kind of t-shirt that Hermann could not even begin to make out the design of, given that it was covered in a layer of grime and what looked suspiciously like Hawaiian punch. Newton’s hair was _appalling_ , messy in a way that Hermann had never seen it, less like his usual carefully crafted disarray and more as if Newton had literally fallen down a ravine. Newton’s arms and face were smeared with dirt. It was utterly disgusting.

It was disgusting, objectively repulsive, and yet Hermann could not help but notice the way the soft fabric of the t-shirt stretched out across Newton’s chest, or the way clung to the soft protrusion of the man’s stomach. There was even something disturbingly appealing about the definition the dirt gave to the man’s arms.

Newton looked downright _grubby_ , and Hermann was achingly, desperately turned on.

It was at that moment that Hermann inhaled, and, unaware of the excess saliva that had pooled in his mouth, finally lost any and all competence he had ever possessed, and promptly began to choke on his own spit. By the time he had finished making an absolute fool of himself and looked up, red-faced, Newton was staring at him, because that was all they seemed to do these days, _stare_ at each other and blush and look away and then stare again. He could see Newton’s eyes sweeping over him, and he remembered again that he had forgone formality and worn his own clothes under the assumption that he would not be seeing anyone. Newton’s eyes kept roaming back to the slip of midriff he was baring, and Hermann knew that it was impossible that the man had not noticed his erection, but the expression on Newton’s face was not one of surprise but pain and conflict instead. For a moment Hermann thought he might cry, because how had this become his life? How had he become a man that was so lacking in base control that it had become a frequent occurrence for his lab partner to witness him in such a state? Newton’s eyes eventually met his once more, and his face must have displayed all the misery and shame he was feeling, because Newton looked abashed.

After another moment during which Hermann blinked harshly and Newton worried his lip with his teeth, Newton offered up “...Figures that on our day off I decide to look like shit whereas you turn up looking like… that.”

Hermann recognised it as what it was, an attempt to normalise the situation, and opening for Hermann to insult him, a hint of flirtation in order to make Hermann feel better. For some reason this was unbearable to him, and he merely looked away, lifting his chin and making his way steadily over to his chalkboard. And if one or two tears made their way out of his ducts, then, well, at least Newton didn’t see. Hermann’s dick throbbed in his trousers and he had to blink away tears again.

 

+1 because this is actually ridiculous

Newt thought that he might be dying. He might have ingested some of those chemicals he worked with, and now he was slowly dying, totally unaware, and experiencing a series of hallucinations that seemed like his normal life except not really because in his normal life Hermann did not wear soft cropped jumpers and pop boners in front of Newt.

It was thoughts like these that distracted him as he made his way through the mess hall, not that he could explain this to the three angrily rangers that for some reason seemed to be towering over him and glowering. _Hah, towering and glowering rhyme. Okay yeah so not what I need to be focusing on_ and Newt forced his mind back into his body to take in the splatter of food across the sweatshirt of the biggest ranger and the tray of flood clattered to the ground and the shards of something where the bowl had broken and the fact that Newt was standing very, very close to them and he thought _oh_ , and he thought _they’re really pissed off at me now._

The biggest ranger, who Newt was now noticing had a nose ring which was kinda cool, reached up slowly and plucked Newt’s glasses from his face.

“You would think,” he growled, and it really was a growl and again Newt was kinda impressed because he could kind of sing but he’s never been a growler, “that these would let you see where you were going, huh?”

And because Newt is an asshole, he tilts his head and replies “You _would_ think that, wouldn’t you? Too bad I only wear them for the look.” with as much sarcasm as he can muster.

The mess hall had gone quiet.

Nose Ring’s face grew darker as he glared directly into Newt’s eyes and dropped the glasses to the floor where he stamped on them with enough force that everyone could hear the snap. Newt dropped his eyes down in an exaggerated manner, feeling his mouth curl into a grin. When he raised them again, he could see the ranger scowling at his lack of reaction, so he gave a toothy grin, chirped “thanks!” in as chipper a voice as he could, and leant forward to plant a kiss of the ranger’s cheek.

The effect was instantaneous. All three of the rangers recoiled in visible horror and disgust, and Newt had enough time to think _god I’m an asshole_ with much more delight than that thought should warrant before the first punch landed itself on his face and sent him sprawling to the floor. Newt felt blood flood his mouth, and he was aware enough of the performative nature of this exchange that he lifted his head and spat it out onto the ranger’s shoes, snickering at the indignant shout above him.

A boot to his chin sent him onto his back, and some part of his brain thought that maybe he was getting a little old for this kind of thrill seeking. His stomach, which currently had the foot of a very angry ranger digging sharply into it, thought that yeah, he really should stop provoking people into this.

And then the foot was gone, and Newt waited for the inevitable stamp, but it never came; instead, he heard a polite but insistent cough.

“Gentlemen,” came a voice that Newt heard in his dreams and Newt threw his head back and groaned, because it was one thing for him to get into this kind of shit, but he could not stand the thought of Hermann getting hurt. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“The problem,” Nose Ring growled above him, “Is that this _fairy_ ruined my lunch, and my uniform.”

Newt couldn’t see from down on the floor, but he could practically hear the way Hermann tilted his head in mock confusion. God, he loved the man.

“That hardly seems cause for violence. Would it not be easier to simply procure another helping?”

“I don’t think you understand,” and Newt could see Nose Ring step closer to Hermann, “I _said_ that this _fairy_ –“ 

“I understood you perfectly. And I warn you, sir, that you might want to reassess your next words very carefully. I do not take kindly to abuse against my partner.”

“Right, that does it,” and Newt reached out desperately to try and grab Nose Ring’s foot but was swiftly kicked back by one of his side-kicks. Newt screwed his eyes shut, unable to deal with the thought of Hermann getting hurt because of his, anticipating with sick horror the sound of Hermann in pain.

What he heard instead was an angry shout and then three heavy thumps. Newt sat up to find the three rangers floored with Hermann standing above them, the end of his cane resting at the throat of Nose Ring like some kind of frumpy swashbuckler.

Nose Ring gaped. “And who the fuck are you? The fairy’s pansy boyfriend?”

Hermann let his cane trail slowly down the ranger’s chest before locating his solar plexus and shoving down hard.

“And if I am?” Hermann smiled down, looking positively _sadistic_ , and Newt was sure that he, witnessing this, was more winded than the ranger that squirmed below Hermann. “Are you jealous?”

There was a moment of silence when nobody in the mess hall seemed to breathe.

Then the wildness faded from Hermann’s eyes, and he blinked, and straightened up.

“Come, Newton.” He ordered primly, spinning swiftly on his feet to glide back out of the hall. Newt took a moment to look down and confirm that yep, he was hard, before scrambling to his feet and scurrying after Hermann.

“Dude,” he gasped as he hurried to catch up, “that was incredible. You’re a fucking badass, Herms, for real, you fucking owned him - god, dude, that was sexy as fuck, you know? I’m so fucking hard right now-”

Hermann stilled, and Newt belatedly realised that they had reached his room.

“In that case, Dr Geiszler,” said Hermann, still staring straight ahead as if Newt wasn’t practically vibrating next to him, “Perhaps you better sort yourself out before you return to the lab.”

Newt stared after him for a second as Hermann began to walk away once more, because he was pretty sure that what had happened back in the mess hall was an acknowledgement of whatever the fuck was going on between them, and he’d kind of assumed that they’d have sex immediately afterwards. He was fairly certain of Hermann’s feelings now, but more than that, he just knew that if he didn’t jump Hermann _right fucking now_ he probably would actually explode.

But, well, Hermann had told him to sort himself out first. And Newt planned on doing exactly that.

 

It was about half an hour before Newt left his room again, smelling faintly of mango shower gel and wearing his tight black leather pants (Olivia Newton-John pants, he called them) and a loose shirt with enough buttons undone that when he leant over you could see right in to where he had managed to find an emerald green bralette from back when he wore those things. He had gained weight since then, and so the bralette curved nicely around the slight swell of his chest. He looked, and this was putting it lightly, like a million fucking dollars. He looked better than Hermann’s Jaeger coding. Or, okay, maybe tied, because Hermann’s coding really was heartbreakingly beautiful.

He paused outside the lab, palming himself quickly through his pants until his erection grew back to life. He wanted to have some fun with this, fluster Hermann until he understood what Newt had been going through these past few weeks. It didn’t take long; the memory of Hermann standing tall over the floored rangers had never really left Newt’s brain, and once he was certain that there was no way Hermann could avoid noticing it he took a breath that in his excitement turned into more of a gulp, and pushed open the door to the lab.

Carefully avoiding looking in Hermann’s direction, Newt made his way over to his side of the lab, making sure to add a little sashay into the swing of his hips. It was a game; Hermann was hardly clueless, and Newt was throwing subtlety to the wind. He could feel Hermann’s eyes on him, practically hear the man’s abrupt stillness, and Newt felt a thrill run up his spine, having to work to keep his face an expression of innocence. When he reached his desk, he rounded it so that he was still facing Hermann, pulling his notebook over to him and leaning exaggeratedly down with one palm flat against the surface so that his shirt gaped open, revealing the lingerie underneath. He was aware that Hermann was still watching him, and so he did his best to cock one hip as he began pretending to jot down notes.

For a moment the quiet scritch of his pen pulling across paper was the only noise in the lab.

Then Newt heard the quiet scrape of wood against the metal floor as Hermann stood, and the steady thud of his cane approaching. Newt kept his head down, hastily turning over the page so Hermann couldn’t see the various scribbles and doing his best to write some actual science, but soon enough he could feel Hermann’s presence at his side.

Newt tried to straighten up and turn to face Hermann, because they were finally doing this, but Hermann placed his hand firmly between Newt’s shoulderblades, pushing down and keeping him in place.

Newt froze.

“Continue with your work, Doctor Geiszler,” Hermann murmured, and it was breathy and high and soft and stern and _strange_ , and Newt was sure that Hermann could feel his heartbeat through the skin of his back because _holy shit_.

Unsteadily, Newt brought his pen back to paper and hesitantly scratched a few new lines of a report that he could probably recite in his sleep, because for all the good his brain was going to be right now he might as well have been asleep. After another moment, Hermann removed his hand, and Newt let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He carefully penned out another sentence, because Hermann seemed to have some kind of idea of what he was doing, and apparently it involved Newt pretending to work.

Then he felt Hermann’s fingers again, and the pen jolted across the page as Hermann slowly pulled the back of his shirt out from where it had been tucked into his pants and rested his fingers on the skin just above his waistband, cold and barely there, almost quivering with effort to keep from exerting any substantial pressure.

Neither of them moved for a moment more, until Newt shakily managed to scratch out a ‘thus’ before Hermann’s fingers started to move. Hermann was standing so close now, so close that Newt could feel the warmth of Hermann’s breath against the side of his neck. Tantalisingly slowly and _oh_ so softly, Hermann dragged the very tips of his fingers up and over the bumps of Newt’s spine. They stilled for a moment when they reached the back of the bralette, stroking the lace gently, before continuing up until they reached the base of Newt’s head. Newt’s shirt was at this point entirely rucked up, and he kind of couldn’t see past the way the shirt had bunched at his front, but he didn’t think he could even pretend to write right now even if he tried. Every nerve in his body was on fire, hairs standing up at the sensation of Hermann’s touch. Then Hermann tilted his fingers so Newt could feel his nails, dug them in, and raked them down Newt’s back.

Newt gasped, his elbow unlocking, and he crumpled, catching himself on his forearm on the desk. He tried to push himself back up but found he could not move, dizzy with lust.

Hermann rounded the desk so that he stood on the other side of it. Newt looked up at him for the first time, mouth open and panting. Hermann’s eyes were fixed on Newton, wide and dark, and there was a hint of a smile that seemed almost predatory playing at the corners of his lips. He looked entirely put together, and only the dilation of his pupils and the red flush of his face gave away how affected he was.

“Come, Newton.” He said again, in that same strange voice, and for a second Newt thought he meant come like _come_ , and he wasn’t really sure what to do because whilst he was painfully turned on by Hermann right now, it really wasn’t enough to make him come, and besides, if he did this strange improbable moment would end and he didn’t want that, but then Hermann turned and began to walk measuredly towards the door, and Newt realised Hermann meant come like _follow_. Hermann had ordered him to follow.

It was almost embarrassing how dishevelled Newt was as he scrambled to obey, tripping over his chair and scrabbling pathetically on the floor for a moment before finding his footing, and Hermann had already exited the lab by the time he did. He knew Hermann’s room was right by the lab, on account of his leg, and when Newt saw that Hermann had left his door slightly ajar he pushed his way in with such haste that he stumbled.

Lithe arms caught him, and before he could properly right himself those same arms slammed him back against the door and then Hermann’s mouth was upon him, kissing hard and fierce as if this was one of those manga and he would die if he didn’t. Newt kissed back desperately, and he was distantly aware that this was probably not as good as normal, because Newt had forgotten any semblance of technique in his desperation to feel Hermann on his lips and in his mouth, licking forwards sloppily and lifting his hands clumsily to try and thread them through Hermann’s hair, or maybe cup the back of his head, but the instructions got lost halfway through and he ended up just scritching feebly at Hermann’s undercut. Hermann, on the other hand, seemed to be in perfect control of everything he was doing; he sucked and bit at Newt’s lip, making Newt whine, pushing his tongue into Newt’s mouth expertly, his hands gripping Newt’s chest where they had pushed his back against the door. Newt, meanwhile, could still do nothing but open and close his mouth uselessly like a fish, and not even a cool fish, so he pulled back from Hermann to try and gain back some semblance of control and hopefully _remember how to kiss_.

Hermann used this as an opportunity to grab at Newt’s waist, manoeuvring him around and practically throwing him backwards onto the bed. Newt squeaked, because he had been the one planning to wind up and fluster Hermann, but Hermann was here _manhandling_ him, standing tall over him and sweeping his eyes over Newt’s sprawling body like a predator sizing up its prey, and Newt was _so fucking into it_.

Hermann shifted his weight to his good leg, and then lifted his cane and used it to tilt Newt’s head up to face him, the tip resting just below Newt’s chin. It was similar to what Hermann did to the ranger, but acutely different, and Newt suddenly remembered every homoerotic novel he’d ever read where some kind of dashing knight or prince would hold his sword up to his opponents throat, having defeated them, and they’d lock eyes and Newt would have to stop reading for a moment because the tension had become unbearable.

The tension right now was unbearable, but this time Newt could not escape it, nor did he want to.

Hermann’s face was unreadable, not for a lack of expression, but rather it was an expression that Newt had never seen before. It was strange in the same way that Hermann’s voice had been strange, was strange still when he spoke again, “Speak, Newton.”

Newt stared up at Hermann blankly, and the corner of Hermann’s mouth curled up slightly even as his eyes and voice hardened. “Newton.” Hermann pressed the end of his cane ever so slightly down into the fragile flesh of Newt’s throat. “Speak.”

“I love you,” Newt blurted out, unable to conjure up a single other thought. _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ his brain cried on repeat, _I love you so much_.

Something flickered through Hermann’s eyes, and he retracted his cane. Hermann carefully sat on the edge of the bed by Newt’s torso, his own twisted around so he could look at Newt. Newt tried to sit up to meet him, but Hermann once more pushed him down with a firm hand to his chest.

“You’re a scientist, Dr Geiszler. Would you care to be more specific?” Hermann said, and now Newt could see the laughter dancing across his face, the way his eyes were lit up, the fondness in Hermann’s smile even as Hermann fought to maintain this facade of neutrality.

Newt grinned back, unable to help himself. “I love everything about you. I always have,” he said, and then paused to make sure that this was what Hermann had been looking for.

Hermann did not speak, but his face split open into an answering grin, and Newt lost his breath because Hermann was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, kaiju included. Hermann’s entire face had crinkled up, eyes almost disappearing into crescent moons, and Newt knew in this moment that he was going to devote his entire life to his man.

Taking a breath, he continued. “I love your brain. I love your maths, and I love the hands that create it. I love your long fingers, and I love your wrists and the veins on your forearm. I love your eyes, and your smile, I love your sexy legs, and–I, uh,” he trailed off as Hermann’s hand began to creep up the inside of his thigh, which Newt could feel like electricity through the softness of his leather pants.

Hermann was still smiling at Newt as if Newt had just saved the world, and Newt swallowed hard as Hermann’s fingers brushed delicately over the front of Newt’s pants.

"Your love is a reciprocal function," Hermann smiled, because that was his way of saying it back, and then Hermann was climbing on top of him, bad leg carefully stretched out, biting down hard at Newt's jugular.

Newt cried out, back arching off the bed, and Hermann used this as an opportunity to grab at Newt’s hips, pulling them up and grinding his good thigh down between Newt’s until Newt was shaking and whimpering beneath him.

Newt threw his head back against the pillow, overwhelmed as Hermann continued to bite bruises into his neck. Hermann’s hand came up to tug impatiently at Newt’s shirt. “Get this off,” he grumbled, and Newt fumbled desperately at the buttons, fingers quivering, until Hermann growled and sat up to rip Newt’s shirt open instead, buttons flying across the room.

Newt wondered again whether he was actually in a coma, and this was some kind of chemically induced hallucination, but there was no way his mind could ever have conjured up a Hermann so aggressive in his passions, this Hermann who was rolling the pads of his thumbs over Newt’s nipples where they poked out through the lace bralette, panting above Newt as if the mere act of _touching_ was driving him crazy. Newt always thought Hermann would probably like lace.

“Dr Gottlieb,” he managed, trying not to let himself get lost in the sensation of Hermann’s hands, “I do believe you are a scientist as well. Care to be specific?”

Hermann’s eyes, which had flicked up in surprise, blinked confusedly before comprehension dawned and a wicked grin curved over his features.

“You work in applied sciences, do you not?” He asked, and Newt nodded, unsure where this was going. “Then allow me to demonstrate.” And with that, Hermann descended on Newt, biting and sucking marks all over him: his neck, his chest, his belly, his waist; Hermann hoisted him out of his pants and then proceeded to mark his way all the way up Newt’s thighs until they were coloured purple and red and green clouds, as if Hermann was trying to create his own full body tattoos on Newt. When he was finished, he hauled himself back up to Newt’s face, where he attacked Newt’s lips with the same ferocity.

“Was...” he rasped, “Was that specific enough for you, Doctor?”

Newt simply gaped, partly because Hermann had just wrecked his entire body with his mouth and Newt felt kind of like an apple that had been thrown down a mountain, and partly because Hermann was somehow still competent enough to speak with infuriating eloquence whilst Newt was sure his brain hadn’t worked properly since the moment Hermann first touched him.

“Fuck me,” he blurted out instead, “I love you. Fuck me, Hermann, please.”

“Well,” Hermann whispered, stroking his thumb across Newt’s flushed cheek, “when you ask so nicely, how can I resist?”

Clambering carefully off from atop Newt, Hermann reached out to fumble around in his bedside drawer, eventually pulling out a small half-full bottle of lube.

“Wow Hermann,” Newt jibed, “who’ve you been using that on?”

Hermann shot him a look, both of them well aware that there had never been anyone but Newt. Hermann made to shut the drawer, but Newt grabbed his arm to stop him.

“I, uh,” Newt winced, “haven’t been tested in a while. You don’t have any condoms, do you?”

Hermann groaned and rolled back onto the bed. “Of course not.”

“I can run to my room and get some,” Newt offered, and made as if to get up, but Hermann grabbed him and rolled them over so Hermann was flat on his back, wrapping his arms around Newt to effectively trap Newt on top of him.

“No. Now that I have you, I intend to keep you.”

“It’s just down the hall,” Newt protested weakly into Hermann’s neck.

“It would require to you re-clothe yourself. I won’t have that.”

“Oh you won’t, will you?” Newt shifted himself up onto his forearms to grin down at Hermann, which quickly turned into an indignant squawk. “Dude, you’re still fully clothed! Get these off!”

Hermann grumbled, but lifted his back and then hips to allow Newt to pull various items of clothing off. “I have always been rather skilled at derailing your ideas,” he reminded Newt, “your apparent plan to seduce me fell apart the moment I became aware of it.”

Newt nipped at Hermann’s collarbone in a play of warning, but the ferocity with which Hermann reached down to grip hard at Newt’s ass in retaliation made it clear who was in charge here.

Newt groaned as their exposed cocks brushed together for the first time. “God, I am so glad I pioneered artificial tissue growth for this.”

Hermann stilled. “Excuse me?”

Newt gestured down between them. “These dicks man. Phalloplasty sucked before I got my hands on it.”

“Yes, well,” Hermann gritted out as he slipped one hand between them to squeeze harshly at Newt’s dick, “I’ll be sure to leave you a good review. But first, if you please, I’d like to study your research a little more thoroughly?”

Newt huffed out a laugh, and then a gasp as Hermann took hold of his hips and begin to rut steadily upwards, as if he was just using Newt to get off, leaving Newt writhing and moaning helplessly above him.

It had been all of five minutes, but already Hermann was biting down hard into the flesh of Newt’s already bruised shoulder in an effort to muffle his cries, and Newt was faring no better, body shuddering violently as he joined Hermann in coming into the warm space between them, the haven that the parentheses of their bodies formed.

“I barely got to touch you,” Newt complained, burying his face in Hermann’s chest.

“Tomorrow, love,” Hermann muttered back, “tomorrow you can touch me enough to make up for all the years I’ve been without it.”

And Newt began to cry, because this moment was everything; it was the culmination of so many years of waiting and pining and _wanting_ so desperately that it almost broke them. In many ways, it was inevitable; they were always going to end up here, kissing each other so ardently that it became impossible to tell whose tears were whose. At the end of the world, Newt and Hermann were drawn to each other like magnets, their attempts at resistance resulting in a tension so thick that they almost suffocated. In an alternate universe, it might have taken them ten more years, during which they felt at times that they had been suffocated beyond life. But Newt and Hermann were always going to end up here, curled around each other, fighting off sleep to enjoy each other for as long as they could, despite the fact that the very next morning they would wake up to each other’s kisses, and Newt would run through the halls wearing only an oversized blazer, returning within minutes with condoms to throw himself back atop Hermann. Newt and Hermann would wake up to each other’s touch every day for the rest of the foreseeable future, but for this moment, and every moment to come, it was sacred, and one day Newt would slip a ring onto Hermann’s finger, trailing his fingers gently across worn knuckles, and joke that maybe god’s handwriting had found a new form.

**Author's Note:**

> this took me a solid week of evenings to write and it's the longest one chapter thing i've ever written so i'm quite proud. also now i can finally get on with my pride and prejudice au.
> 
> find me on twitter @partiallysstars or tumblr @declaredimaginary!!! if you read this i love you and if you comment i will probably never forget you
> 
> fun fact the first time i had sex w a girl i literally just bit her all over. so. herms gets that from me


End file.
